Comfortably Numb
by TubalCainUK
Summary: It's 1951, and Gary and Phoebe are enjoying the sights of the Festival of Britain. It's 2005, and Yvonne and Ron have VIP tickets to Live 8. But Gary's life is in danger, and he needs both wives and all his friends - past and present - to save him...
1. Chapter 1

**Comfortably Numb**

Chapter One - In The Flesh?

Ron was asleep when Yvonne came into the shop, his feet up on the counter. Yvonne tiptoed up to him, then banged her hands down on the counter just as he had years ago when Gary had been the proprietor. He woke, flustered.

"Yvonne! My lady and mistress! I was just... er... stocktaking," he mumbled.

Yvonne winced. "Thank you, Ron. I've now got a picture in my head of myself as your mistress, and it's not one I want to remain there, specially as I've just had my lunch. If you've finished taking stock, I have an errand for you."

"Anything for you, most noble lady," said Ron, hastily hiding a half-eaten burger under the counter.

"Skip the flattery, Ron. Time is of the essence. I want you to pick up a dress that I've ordered. I'd go myself but I have to speak to a natural therapy conference in Canary Wharf in half an hour, and I need it for tonight."

"Tonight?"

Yvonne sighed. "Sometimes, Ron, I wonder if there is any intelligence in that fat Scouse head of yours. Live 8? Big rock concert with lots of bands on?"

Ron went white. "Don't tell me you've got VIP tickets."

"Ticket, Ron, singular." She looked at Ron's hang-dog expression and sighed again. "And if you're thinking - "

"Oh, Yvonne, please. Pleeeeease. Pretty, pretty, pretty please." Before she could say anything in reply, he went on, "When have I ever asked anything of you, Yvonne?"

"About sixteen times every week. Oh, go on then. I'm allowed a plus one. Though in your case, it's more like a plus one and a half."

Ron nearly fell off his chair with excitement. "This is peaching! Absolutely peaching! Thank you so, so much, Yvonne. I am your slave for life."

Yvonne felt a surge of nausea in her throat. "Now that's a mental picture I really can't stomach." She wrote the address of the dressmaker's and the details on a piece of Nature Futura notepaper on the counter. "I'll be back here for about 3 to collect it."

"Collect what?" Ron's mind was completely focussed on hob-nobbing with the likes of Paul McCartney, Bono and Dave Gilmour.

"The dress, Ron," said Yvonne wearily, and went out.

The shop was very different to how it had been six years ago, when it had been Gary's shop, Blitz And Pieces. After Gary disappeared Yvonne had taken ownership, and after starting a new and better natural therapy company called Nature Futura, had turned it into a therapy salon where the rich and famous could be pampered at high cost. There hadn't been much point in carrying on Gary's memorabilia business, since most if not all of the stock had come through a time portal from the 1940s and the time portal had closed. This had left Ron without a job again, but Ron had begged Yvonne to let him stay on as manager of the shop. "You know, just in case he ever..." he'd said. Yvonne had taken pity on him - not for the first time - and employed him as branch manager. Fortunately it wasn't one of the larger, more important branches.

There weren't any customers that lunchtime, although some TV talent show contestant was booked to come in for a facial at 4. Ron picked up Yvonne's note and went out, locking the door behind him.

Yvonne dropped Ron off at his house, then headed back to her penthouse apartment. It had been a good evening, apart from... Ron. While she had been chatting to Roger Waters, Pink Floyd's one-time and returning bass player, who cared about many of the same issues that she did and she found to be very much a kindred spirit, Ron had cornered Nick Mason, the Floyd's drummer, and was regaling him with his "knowledge" of cars. Nick had nodded politely, smiled and even laughed at Ron's "jokes", but when she caught his glance, it said "Rescue me, please!" While stopped at some lights she rummaged in her bag for her personal phone and couldn't find it. "Damn, I must have left it at the shop when I picked up the dress." So she made a detour to Whitechapel.

Sergeant Commissionaire Reg Deadman was feeling melon - mela - sad. He didn't know why. Life was good. Home life was bliss. He had a good job. He enjoyed his conversations with the residents, especially Gary and Phoebe, and Noel Coward. But... he missed something. Something from the old days, when he'd been a copper on the beat, round the East End. He'd liked his uniform and the authority it had given him. So now, six years after the war ended, whenever he felt mellun - melchior - sad, he liked to wander down Duckett's Passage, just like the old days.

A voice shouted to him from the end of the alley. "Oi! Get out o' here! UXB!"

"I'm an ex-police officer," replied Reg huffily.

"No, UXB! Unexploded bomb, you daft apeth!"

"Unexploded wha - ?"

There was a huge explosion and Reg was blown into the air. He landed on the cobbles and his head cracked against them. Blood poured from the wound. In a daze, he looked around for something to press against his head, to stop the bleeding. Then he remembered his scarf. He took it off and tied it round his head. Everything was blurry.

Yvonne picked up her phone from the counter of the shop and was heading for the door when she heard... nothing. But it wasn't nothing. It was like a displacement of the air, rather than a sound. It had come from behind the shop, in the yard. Trembling slightly, she took off one of her shoes with the slender high heels and brandished it like a weapon, then unlocked the back door of the shop and went into the yard.

There was no-one there. But there was a cloud of dust, gradually settling on the ground. She moved closer. Now there was an odd thing. The dust was scattered in all directions - except one. Just before the security gates, the dust ended in a sharp straight line. She traced her fingers over the line.

The ends of her fingers disappeared.

In shock, she drew her hand back. Her fingers were fine. So she tentatively moved her hand towards the line. As it crossed the line, it disappeared. She drew her hand back again and it rematerialised. Yvonne giggled. "I wonder whether this is Gary's time portal," she said to herself. "Well, only one way to find out..." She squared her shoulders and walked forward, shutting her eyes as she expected to collide with the gates. She didn't.

Reg was still feeling woozy. For a moment he thought he saw a disembodied hand in the air in front of him. The he blinked and shook his head as a woman appeared in the darkness.

"Ooh, are you alright?" She offered a hand to help him up.

"Fine, I'm fine," said Reg, staggering to his feet with the woman's help.

"What's been going on 'ere, then?" The woman had a Northern accent. She looked to be in her late thirties maybe, and was very well dressed.

"Unexploded bomb," said Reg indistinctly. "Only now, it's more of an exploded bomb. You shouldn't be wandering around a place like this, miss, it's dangerous."

"I'm not a miss, I'm a Mrs," said the woman. "Sparrow. Baroness Sparrow, actually."

"Sparrow! I know a Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow. Lovely couple, Gary and Phoebe."

Yvonne's blood ran cold. "Did you say Gary?"

"Yes."

"Tall, skinny, looks like he's not all there half the time?"

"You know him? Are you related? Well I suppose you must be, with the same surname. Are you his sister?"

"No," Yvonne replied in an icy voice. "I'm his wife."

"Let me get this straight," said Reg. He and Yvonne were sitting in a lounge at the Ritz, sipping coffee. His head was now properly bandaged. The cut on the back of his head was quite small; the bleeding had seemed worse than it really was. "You've been married to Gary for... how long?"

"Twelve years. Though I haven't seen him for the past six."

"Since the war ended? He's been living with Phoebe in their flat in Mayfair."

"I know," said Yvonne. "I've been there."

"But I thought you said you haven't seen him."

"I haven't. You see, I - we - I mean, Gary and I - we're from..." she tailed off into silence.

"Yes?"

"Oh never mind, it's a bit complicated to explain, and you've had a bash on the head, you poor thing. Was the bomb left over from the war?"

"Yeah. There's a lot of 'em about. I reckon it'll be years before they find them all."

"Where do you live?"

"At the same place as Gary and Phoebe. I'm the Sergeant Commissionaire," he added proudly.

Yvonne smiled. "Excellent. I've got two rooms here for the night, and then in the morning we can pay a visit on Gary and Phoebe."

"'Ere," said Reg. "How did you manage to get rooms here at this time of night?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Yvonne smiled even more sweetly. "I'm a Baroness."


	2. Chapter 2

**Comfortably Numb**

Chapter Two - Nobody Home

Gary and Phoebe had made an early start, to enjoy the sights of the Festival of Britain before the crowds arrived. Unfortunately now the crowds had arrived, so it was getting to be a bit of a crush.

"It's a pity Michael's at school today, he'd have loved this," said Phoebe once they'd found a bench to sit down upon.

"We don't need no education," Gary hummed to himself.

"What's that?"

"Oh, just an idea for a new song," replied Gary hastily. "We don't need no education, we don't need no thought control..." he sang, then tailed off into silence as Phoebe gave him that frowning look again.

"Can't see that ever being a hit. And anyway, you're the one who's always pulling me up for bad grammar."

Gary put his arm around his wife's waist. "Happy?"

She smiled back again. "Yes, I am. I was thinking - it's been six years since the war ended. The war lasted six years. That means that from now on, we'll have had more peace than war."

They sat for a minute in silence, enjoying the sunshine and watching people pass by. Then Phoebe spoke again. "And it's so nice that you're home, and not going off doing your secret stuff, and you can be a proper father to Michael and Yvonne. Do you think she'll be alright with Noel?"

"She'll be fine," Gary reassured her. "Noel's great with kids. He looked after Michael often enough when I had to... go away. And we needed a day to ourselves. You've hardly been out of the flat since Yvonne was born. Even the shopping has been down to me and Reg."

"I know," she said with a slight edge to her voice. "And that's something a woman should be doing, not a man."

"I had to shop for myself before I met you," said Gary.

"That's different and you know it, Gary Sparrow. A married man shouldn't be going to the shops for groceries."

"I shouldn't be letting you into their flat, Mrs. Spar - er, your Ladyship. If we're found out Mr. Jones'll have my guts for garters," said Reg, fumbling with a set of keys.

"I'm his wife, remember?" Yvonne frowned. "Well, one of 'em, it seems."

"How do I know that? Have you got any proof?"

"Oh, dear, I'm afraid I left my photo album with our wedding pictures at home. And I didn't even think to bring our marriage certificate."

"I get it. You're being sarcastic."

"No, I'm being sincere, can't you tell?" Yvonne snapped.

Reg didn't appear to have heard. "Do you know, yesterday I wouldn't have recognised sarcasm. But since that bang on the head just before you turned up, I'm getting a grip on things more."

Yvonne was getting impatient. "Just open the door, please?"

She was annoyed at having to give the Ritz the sapphire necklace that Sting had given her for her birthday two years ago - well, in 2003 - in payment for her stay last night. But 21st Century cash didn't cut much ice here in the Fifties, and they wouldn't take plastic either. Gary must have had all this worked out, she thought. I bet Ron had something to do with it, with his printing.

Reg opened the door, then retreated to allow Yvonne to enter.

Yvonne gasped in surprise. She had expected to see Gary, or Phoebe, but - Noel Coward?

"Shh, you might wake the baby. I - " Mr. Coward looked up, and stopped when he saw Yvonne. "Good morning. I don't believe I've had the pleasure?"

"No, I don't suppose you have," she replied with a giggle. "You're Noel Coward, right?".

"Indeed I am. And you are?"

"Yvonne Sparrow. Baroness Sparrow, actually."

"Charmed," said Noel, kissing her hand. Yvonne giggled again. "I take it you're a relative of Gary?"

"I should say so," replied Yvonne. "I'm his wife. Not the only one, it seems."

Noel raised an eyebrow. "Oh dear, oh dear. I can see there being fireworks when they return. Perhaps I should retire to the safety of my own quarters - but I promised I would look after little Yvonne till they returned."

"Yvonne? The baby's called Yvonne? After me?"

"Indeed she is. Six months old, with all the energy of one ten times her age."

"Do Gary and - whatsername - have any more kids?"

"A sweet little 8-year-old called Michael. He's at school."

"So where are they?"

"They're spending the day visiting the Festival of Britain. Poor Phoebe hasn't been outside these four walls since little Yvonne was born."

"When will they be back?"

"Oh, tea-time, I should say. Phoebe will want to feed Yvonne, and Michael will want his tea when he gets home from school."

"Fine," said Yvonne. "Reg," she called out to the figure lurking nervously by the door, "be a love and make us a nice cup of tea, and Mr. Coward can tell me all about Gary and - " she spat the word out - "Phoebe."

The day flew past for Gary and Phoebe. By four o'clock they both felt exhausted, so they took a taxi back to Mayfair.

"That was a lovely day, Mr. Sparrow. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek as they reached the landing leading to their front door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sparrow," replied Gary, unlocking and opening the door.

"You're welcome, Mr. Sparrow," said Yvonne from the sofa. "But which Mrs. Sparrow were you talking to?" She stood and turned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Comfortably Numb**

Chapter Three - The Thin Ice

"Wh - wh - wh - " was all Gary could manage.

Phoebe came into the flat. "Who're you? What are you doing in our flat?"

Yvonne smiled at Phoebe. "Hello, Phoebe. Gary, would you introduce us?"

"Wh - wh - wh - "

"This is Yvonne, Phoebe," said Noel, who was sitting on the sofa.

"Alright, Yvonne, what are you doing in our... Wait a minute, I know you. I met you at Gary's HQ once."

"His HQ?" asked Yvonne, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that was it. It looked like a shop with all sorts of junk in it. You're Gary's Number One."

"Well I thought so. But maybe I was just his Number Two..."

"Sorry?"

"Phoebe, this is Yvonne Sparrow," said Noel quietly.

"What? You're his sister then?"

"No, dear," said Yvonne, unable to keep a tremble out of her voice. Now that she'd met Phoebe, she didn't feel angry at her anymore. After all, it wasn't her fault. "Didn't Gary tell you that he was already married?"

"He said he'd been married, but it was all over. To someone called... Marilyn. Yes, that was it, Marilyn Munroe."

Yvonne snorted with laughter. "Marilyn Munroe? He told you he was married to Marilyn Munroe? In his dreams!" Phoebe looked confused. "No," Yvonne went on, "he was married to me. Yvonne Sparrow. Before he ever met you."

Phoebe looked shell-shocked for a moment. Then she said, "Oh, I get it. You're an old flame of Gary's and you've never got over him, so you come round 'ere with this cock and bull story to try and split us up. Go on Gary, tell her to sling 'er 'ook."

"I can't," Gary whispered.

"What d'you mean, you can't?"

"I can't because she's telling the truth. I'm married to both of you."

Gary drew in a long drag from a cigarette. He was shaking all over. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he was saying over and over again.

"You're sorry?" Phoebe screamed. "You've been lying to me for the past eleven years and all you can say is you're sorry?"

"I never meant to hurt you. Or you," he added, turning to Yvonne. "Or anyone. I had... two lives. And they never touched. They never could touch. Until... until now. I'm so sorry." In tears, he rushed out of the flat, past Michael who was coming up the stairs.

"Dad! I - Dad!" Michael called after him as he rushed down to the lobby and outside. Michael went into the flat, to find his mother, Reg, Noel, his baby sister and a strange woman in expensive clothes there. "Mum, what's going on? What's the matter with Dad?"

Reg knelt down and spoke quietly. "Michael, son, we've got some serious news to tell you. Can you be brave?"

Michael nodded.

Gary didn't know where he was going, or what to do. He just had to keep on walking, in the hope that the movement might clear his head enough for him to know what to do next.

As he often did when he'd had a tiff with Phoebe, he headed for Hyde Park. There he traced a footpath which led towards a little cafeteria. Sit down and have a coffee, he thought, then things might be a tiny bit clearer.

But before the cafeteria came in sight, the path vanished. So did the park. And the light. And the ground.

He was falling in pitch blackness for a second or so. Then he hit a hard floor and was knocked unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Comfortably Numb**

Chapter Four - Comfortably Numb

When Gary woke, he wasn't sure if he had woken up. He couldn't see or hear anything. He wondered if he was dead. Maybe he'd fallen through a hole in the ground, landed on the tracks of the Piccadilly Line, been run over by a tube train and now he was dead. Well, he thought, it would serve me right.

"Gary Sparrow?" said a voice that seemed to come from all around him. Gary said nothing.

"Gary Sparrow?" the voice said again. "Are you awake? Can you hear me?"

"Ye - yes," gasped Gary, rubbing his head, which was sore.

"Please don't be alarmed. You're quite safe. My name is Yarn. Dirrick Yarn. Do you have any idea where you are?"

"Splatted all over Leicester Square station?" Gary ventured.

"No, no, you're alive and well, let me assure you," said the voice soothingly. "Maybe I should rephrase the question: do you have any idea _when _you are?"

"When - have I travelled in time?"

"Indeed you have, Gary - may I call you Gary?" Gary didn't answer. The voice continued, "You are in the year 2306. You are in the basement of my house, only a kilometre or so from where your home in Mayfair used to stand."

"So that's why it's pitch black?" asked Gary.

"Forgive me, I had to have you arrive in darkness as the shock of unexpected time travel may have scared you too much. I will bring up the lights."

A diffuse light which didn't appear to have any source grew and grew until Gary could see what looked like some kind of amateur inventor's laboratory. A middle-aged man with blond hair stood a few feet in front of him. He was wearing odd clothes. It wasn't the style that was odd - he would probably not have looked out of place in a swanky 21st Century nightclub - but the colour. It didn't appear to be any one colour. Without it noticeably changing, it never seemed to be the same colour from one moment to the next. Gary found it quite unsettling and averted his eyes.

"I need your help, Gary," said Yarn.

"What for?"

"In my time, the planet is in a mess," Yarn explained. "There was - I suppose you could think of it as a nuclear war, though it didn't use weapons that you'd be familiar with. These weapons corrupted human DNA on such a scale that, a couple of generations from now, humanity will become extinct. Unless you, and chosen individuals like you, agree to help us."

"What do you want from me?" Having lived a double life for a long time, as well as incidents like being held prisoner by the Nazis, had made Gary suspicious.

"We need a sample of your DNA. That is all. The process is quite painless. Just like giving blood in your time. With uncorrupted DNA, we have a good chance of finding the cure to the world plague. Gary, you could save the planet." Yarn looked earnestly into Gary's eyes.

"Are you sure? You're just going to take a blood sample from me and then send me back home?"

"Yes, Gary."

Yarn looked honest enough. Gary decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "OK then. What do I need to do?"

"Just sit in this chair and roll up your sleeve."

"I - I can't stand needles," Gary mumbled.

"What do you think this is, the 20th Century?" said Yarn with a smile. "No, this extractor harvests the fluids we need through the pores of the skin, painlessly. You won't feel anything."

Gary shrugged, sat down in the chair and rolled up his sleeve. "OK, Doc, do your worst."

Yarn smiled again and pressed a small silver capsule to Gary's skin. It felt warm to the touch. Then Gary began to feel drowsy. "Don't worry Gary. If you feel a bit sleepy that's a normal reaction if you've not had fluids extracted this way before."

Yarn's voice seemed to be coming from further and further away. The shapes of the things in the room melted into one another. Then Gary was fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Comfortably Numb**

Chapter Five - What Shall We Do Now?

Ron parked his car outside the Nature Futura shop and was surprised to find Yvonne's car parked there too. It wasn't like Yvonne to call in on a Sunday, unless she'd left something at the shop by mistake. He went to unlock the shop and was surprised to find it already unlocked. He went in.

"Hello! Yvonne!" he called out. There was no answer. "You left the door unlocked!" Yvonne was nowhere to be found. Ron looked in the back of the shop. No-one was in the loo. He looked out in the yard. Still no-one.

Ron stared at the security gates, open-mouthed. "Don't say she's..." He walked forward to the gates and raised an arm. It vanished.

"Oh, my. Well, faint heart never won fair lady..." He strode forward.

When Reg had finished explaining the situation to Michael, Michael had stood there for the best part of a minute, trying to take it all in, then he had shouted, "No, I don't believe you," run into his room and slammed the door.

"So what happens now?" Yvonne now said.

"Well if you think you're just going to breeze in 'ere and take my Gary away from me you've got another think coming," said Phoebe angrily.

"I haven't come all this way just to go home empty-handed," Yvonne retorted.

"Where have you come from, by the way?" asked Phoebe. "Cricklewood?"

"No, I've come from - " Yvonne stopped. Phoebe clearly already saw her as slightly unhinged; she didn't want to confirm her suspicions by telling her she'd come from the next century. "I've come from the east side of London," she went on.

Reg eyed her curiously. There was something about this Baroness Sparrow, something that seemed out of place. Just the way Gary did...

There was a knock at the front door. "I bet Gary's gone out without his keys again," said Phoebe, heading towards the door.

"Tell me about it," said Yvonne.

Phoebe opened the door. Ron stood in the doorway. "Commander Bond!" exclaimed Phoebe in astonishment.

Yvonne roared with laughter again. "Commander what?"

Ron blushed. "Oh, fiddlesticks," he said, entering the room and looking at the floor.

"You know Commander Bond, Yvonne," said Phoebe. "He was Gary's commanding officer. He was with you both at the HQ, the night we had those air raids."

"Ron couldn't command the proverbial you-know-what in a brewery. Come to think of it, he'd probably drink the brewery dry all by himself."

"You're right there," Phoebe agreed.

"And his name isn't Bond, it's Wheatcroft."

"So why did you tell me you were called Bond?"

"Erm, I believe you met one of my relatives in Liverpool once. A real low-life. I was afraid you might take a dislike to me."

"Let me get this straight," said Phoebe. "If you're his wife, and you're not his commanding officer, then what was all that HQ stuff about and why did Gary lie to me?"

Yvonne looked at Ron. "We can't tell her, Yvonne," he said.

"You can't tell me what? What is this big secret? Do you think I'm too stupid or something?"

"No, it's - " Ron struggled to find the words.

Baby Yvonne started to cry. Noel tried to pacify her by making gurgling noises.

There was another knock at the door. A loud, insistent knocking. Phoebe answered it.

"Reverend Peters?" said Phoebe. "What's the matter?"

Reverend Peters was a fairly short, chubby man with a bald head, a walrus moustache and a friendly face. He was trying to catch his breath. "Phoebe," he gasped. "Gary's... disappeared."

"Disappeared? Nah, he went out about half an hour ago. He's just gone out for a walk. He'll be back soon."

"No, you misunderstand me," replied the clergyman with panic in his voice. "He literally disappeared. Into thin air."

"What?"

He stepped into the room and looked at the assembled party. "I was taking a walk in Hyde Park," he said between gasps, "when I saw Gary in the distance. I waved and was about to call out to him, when he vanished. Just like that. I rushed to the spot where he'd been but there was no sign."

Ron and Yvonne exchanged glances, which Reg noticed.

"Can you show us where it happened, Reverend?" asked Ron.

"Why yes, but there's nothing there to see."

"Could you take us there? Please?" said Yvonne.

"Certainly."

Phoebe said to Noel, "Can you mind Yvonne and Michael while we go and see if we can find Gary?"

"Anything for you, dear heart," replied Noel.

Ron interrupted, "Actually, Phoebe, I think we may need Michael with us. Just a hunch."

Phoebe looked at Ron dumbly for a moment, then said, "Alright, Commander, Ron, whatever your name is." She went to Michael's room, went in and said softly. "Michael, love, I know you're upset but we need you. Daddy's life might depend on it."

Michael was lying on his bed, crying. Through sobs he said, "I don't understand."

"Daddy may be in danger and his friends think you can help."

Michael got off the bed, wiped his eyes and took his mother's hand. "All right Mummy."

So a short time later Phoebe, Yvonne, Ron, Reg and Michael, following Reverend Peters, arrived in Hyde Park. Peters pointed to a spot on one of the footpaths. "He was right there," he said.

"There's nothing there," said Phoebe.

"Well, nothing that you can see," remarked Ron. "Michael, can you sense anything? Feel anything?"

The boy looked confused. "No, I - hang on." He put his hands out in front of him, as if feeling his way along a dark tunnel. "It feels like I'm being tickled. Just here." He pushed against an invisible something and his hands disappeared. He giggled.

"Michael!" screamed Phoebe in terror.

"It's alright Mummy, I'm all right," Michael laughed. "See?" He drew back his hands and they were completely intact.

"What in Heaven's name is that?" Phoebe gasped.

"The way to find Gary," replied Ron. "Everyone hold hands!"

"I'm not 'olding your 'and," Reg said indignantly.

"Oh dry up, Reg," said Phoebe. She took Michael's hand in one hand and Reg's in the other. Reg joined hands with Ron, Ron joined hands with Yvonne. Then they all stepped into the invisible whatever-it-was, leaving Reverend Peters standing alone and dumbfounded.


	6. Chapter 6

**Comfortably Numb**

Chapter Six - Bring The Boys Back Home

They found themselves in a dimly-lit room with all sorts of technological gadgets on benches and shelves. Gary was lying, unconscious, on a long bench on the far side of the room, with a maze of tubes sticking into him all over his body.

"Gary!" screamed Phoebe and Yvonne in unison, rushing forward.

A figure in the corner, wearing clothes made of an odd-looking material, turned, startled. "What the - how did you get in here?"

Ron and Reg immediately ran to him and pinned him to the wall. "What have you done with Gary?" Ron snarled.

"Don't worry, he isn't in any pain," said the man.

"Let him go!" shouted Reg.

"Oh no, I'm not giving up on a prize this good. Your Gary's going to give me whatever I want!"

"Explain!" Reg barked.

"Do you think I'm that stupid as to tell you everything just so that you can wreck it all in the nick of time? Owww!" He winced in agony as Michael ran over to him and punched him as hard as he could in the nether region.

"Let my Daddy go, you horrible evil man!"

"Explain, or we'll let Michael hit you as often as he likes!"

"Ooof!" the man exclaimed as Michael dealt another blow. "Alright, just get that kid off me!"

Reg whispered, "All right, son, you can stop now. Till I say start again." He gave Michael a wink and a smile. Michael nodded.

With Reg and Ron still holding him firmly against the wall, he began, "My name is Dirrick Yarn. This is the year 2306. In my time, Gary's famous. One of the first of the Elite."

"Elite?" asked Ron.

"In my time, those who can travel through time whenever they wish are the... what's the word... aristocrats of our society. They can have anything they want. The rest of us, like you, can only travel through a time portal under very unusual circumstances. But I had forgotten about the boy."

"What's Michael got to do with it?" asked Reg.

"It's something in the DNA. A genetic mutation. Gary's son has a fifty-fifty chance of inheriting it. Looks like he has." He glared at Michael with loathing. Michael returned the look and then some. "But I can extract Gary's DNA and superimpose it on my own, giving me the ability to time-travel."

"So, you've extracted his DNA," said Ron. "Now let him go!"

"No, I need just about all his DNA for the process to be effective."

"You mean you're going to bleed Gary dry?" Ron exploded.

"Not a very delicate way of putting it, but that's about right, yes."

"If you let Gary go now, will he be alright?" asked Reg.

"No, it's too late for that," replied Yarn with a smile.

"OK, son," said Reg to Michael, "Fire away!"

"No, no, he will be alright, it's not too late," Yarn exclaimed quickly before Michael could hit him again.

Meanwhile Yvonne and Phoebe had been trying frantically to stop the machine doing whatever it was doing to Gary and to disconnect him from the mass of tubes. Fortunately they didn't penetrate too deep; they were like drips in a 20th Century hospital. Gary began to come round, though he was very groggy.

"Let's get you 'ome, Gary Sparrow," said Phoebe as she and Yvonne hoisted him onto their shoulders.

"Michael, can you find the tickly barrier again so we can get home?" asked Reg.

Michael ran to the spot where they had first arrived. "Here it is, Uncle Reg."

"Good stuff," said Ron. "Over here, girls," he called out. He and Reg then dragged Yarn to the place where the time portal was.

"You're not going to take me back to the 20th Century with you?" Yarn exclaimed in horror.

"We can't leave you here to try this all over again when our backs are turned. If what you said is true, you can't travel in time under normal circumstances, and you can't do what you've done to Gary again if your equipment is in the 24th Century and you're in the 20th," said Ron.

"But I'll never survive in the past! It's a nightmare!"

"You can learn," said Gary weakly. "I did."


	7. Chapter 7

**Comfortably Numb**

Chapter Seven - Outside The Wall

Reverend Peters was sitting cross-legged on the ground, mopping his brow and feeling rather faint, when Ron, Reg, Phoebe, Yvonne, Michael and Gary appeared out of nowhere. Ron and Reg were holding a struggling character in peculiar clothes who was shouting, "You can't do this! Let me go!"

"What happened?" Peters spluttered. "Where did you go?"

"I don't think you'd believe us if we told you, Reverend," said Ron.

Yarn made a grab for Michael, to try and push him back through the time portal while holding on to him. "Oh no you don't," shouted Phoebe, moving between Yarn and her son, while Yvonne kneed Yarn in the groin. He collapsed onto the ground, his eyes filling with tears.

"So, now you know the truth about Gary," said Ron quietly to Reg.

"I'd already guessed it," replied Reg.

"What?"

"Since that bang on the head last night I've been able to piece things together. Lots of little details that suddenly made sense. How Gary seemed to know what was going to happen in the war. Some of the little gadgets he had - they weren't just Secret Service things, they were too advanced for that. The bottles of wine with dates in the future on them. He was no MI5 man, he didn't have the backbone. He's from the future, and so are you. And Yvonne." Ron stood with his mouth open, amazed. "How far in the future are you from, by the way? Not as far as our body-snatching friend here, I suppose?" He indicated Yarn, lying on the ground, whimpering.

"Oh no, only just over fifty years. We'll all be born about ten years from now," Ron added with a laugh.

"So, I suppose you're going to take Gary back with you to your marvellous future?" said Phoebe bitterly.

"No," said Yvonne.

"No?"

"He belongs with you now. I still love him, and I still want him back. But Ron never told me you'd had kids. They belong here with you, and he belongs with all of you." She turned to Gary. "At least we can say goodbye properly this time." She kissed him on the cheek. "And do pop into the 21st Century for a visit now and again? If you can."

"If I can," said Gary. He burst into tears and hugged Yvonne. "Oh Yvonne, I'm so sorry."

Yvonne smiled. "Don't worry Gary. If none of this had ever happened, if we'd just been a normal Nineties couple, we might not have stayed together forever. But we've had a real blast together. Brother and sister, that's what we should have been."

Phoebe went white. Donald had said something like that to her the last time she'd seen him.

Reg dragged Yarn to his feet. "Now, listen to me, sunshine. We can't take you to the police, as the crime you've committed hasn't taken place yet. But if you come anywhere near Gary and his family again, I might just get a teeny bit angry. Understand?"

Yarn nodded dumbly and ran off.

"Well, this is goodbye," said Ron. He shook Gary's hand, gave Phoebe a kiss on the cheek and Michael a hug. Yvonne kissed Gary, Phoebe and Michael.

"You never know, you might meet an elderly couple on the bus. Or a middle-aged man from New Zealand," said Gary.

"New Zealand? What about New Zealand?" asked Phoebe.

"I'll explain later," said Gary with a grin.

"Come on," Yvonne said to Ron, "let's get back to the future."

"Roads?" said Ron in a fake American accent. "Where we're going, we don't need roads."

"Yes we do, you great pillock," Yvonne retorted, and she and Ron went to find a taxi to take them to Duckett's Passage.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Gary said to Phoebe.

"Can I forgive you? For being a bigamist, and eleven years of lies, and all those secrets... Hmmm, maybe, one day. But I'm glad there are no more secrets now. I finally know you, Gary Sparrow." She kissed him.

**THE END**


End file.
